


Perchance to Dream

by Star_Going_Supernova



Series: Matters of the Heart [3]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, can't stop won't stop, help they're too adorable, i refuse to spoil anything else, lots of fluff, someone get this cuteness under control, the toons are mentioned but don't play a significant part in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 11:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Going_Supernova/pseuds/Star_Going_Supernova
Summary: At night we dream of horrors, but waking is the best dream of all.Or; Joey’s nightmare doesn’t stand a chance against Henry.





	Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This goes from angst to fluff in about .7 seconds, just so you all know. 
> 
> Someday I’ll write a story for this ‘verse that actually involves the toons. Today, regrettably, is not that day.
> 
> Happy Valentine’s Day! <3

With a gasp and full-body jerk, Joey woke up. He was shaking all over, lungs heaving in his chest, and useless adrenaline poured through his veins. A fight or flight response to his dream— his nightmare— made him sit up and throw his legs over the side of the bed. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so affected by a dream, though to be fair, he felt justified considering the events his own mind had just put him through. 

Closing his eyes, he breathed out, trying to will away the lingering image of his own bloody hands on Henry’s gagged face. 

 _It was just a dream,_ he told himself. _It wasn’t real._

Joey twisted around to make sure he hadn’t woken Henry, but his heart skipped a beat before doing double-time at the sight of their empty bed. 

_It was just a dream… right?_

Ignoring the panic that began bubbling up his throat, he threw back the covers and hurried towards their bedroom door. The rest of the house was dark, the doors to each of the toons’ rooms closed, and for a brief, horrible moment, Joey wondered if it hadn’t been a dream at all. 

But then the slightest flicker of light in the corner of his eye caught his attention. 

The little fire pit on their back deck was burning brightly, and as he moved to better see out of the windows, he could make out Henry’s silhouette being backlit by it. Joey’s legs briefly went wobbly, and he leaned heavily on the back of their couch to steady himself. 

Once he felt capable of walking without falling on his face, he silently made his way to the sliding door separating him from Henry. Before opening it and announcing his presence, he took Henry in. 

He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape and his hair stuck up in ways Joey would never be able to understand. Henry didn’t even move around that much at night, so how did he have the most consistently crazy bedhead of anyone Joey ever knew? The reason he was out there was sound asleep in Henry’s lap, the corners of the blanket shielding Bendy from the chilly air. It was mid February after all, and where they lived, there was a light dusting of snow on the grass beyond. 

Joey slowly pulled the door to the side, enough to step out. The stones were freezing beneath his bare feet, but he barely noticed. He was too busy frantically taking in the calm and happy look on Henry’s face, replacing the one of fear that was still stuck in his head. There was no blood on his boyfriend’s cheeks, not now, not ever. 

Henry turned to him, his eyes just heavy-lidded enough for Joey to guess he hadn’t been up too long. The peaceful expression instantly vanished and Henry straightened up. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “You look like you’re about to throw up or something.” 

Moving as though in a dream, Joey crossed the stones without answering, coming to kneel between Henry’s legs, which he obligingly spread for him. It was a horrible reminder of his nightmare, but Joey forced himself to reach up and cup Henry’s cheeks, if only to prove to himself that Henry wouldn’t flinch away.

He didn’t, and Joey fearfully traced over the familiar lines of Henry’s face with his eyes. “I didn’t hurt you,” he whispered.

Full on frowning now, Henry stared at him for a long moment before gently pulling away. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Joey nodded and watched in silence as Henry adjusted Bendy while he stood, gesturing with his head at the blanket as it slipped off his shoulders. Taking the hint, Joey moved to bench and bundled up while Henry slipped inside to return Bendy to his bed. He was back within minutes, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate.

After passing them to Joey, he wiggled into the blanket cocoon, settling only when he was warmly pressed up against Joey’s side. Henry didn’t speak as they sipped from their identical #1 Dad In The World mugs— though Joey’s was crossed out to say #2, done by Joey himself much to Henry’s embarrassment and the toons’ hysterical delight— which meant he was going to wait until Joey was ready. 

He tried, he really did, but the right words— whatever they might have been— escaped him. How do you explain to your significant other that you had a dream that focused on the capture, imprisonment, and methodical break-down and manipulation of him?

Henry, forever proving how well he knew Joey, finally spoke up. “Bendy had a bad dream. I’m surprised he didn’t wake you up, actually. You should’ve seen him— he didn’t want to touch me.” 

“Why?”

“He was scared. See, in his nightmare, he was chasing me, trying to kill me. Succeeded a few times, actually, but he said I just kept coming back for him to hunt down again.”

Gulping, Joey nodded. “He was scared to touch you because he thought he might hurt you.”

“Yep. Y’know what I did about that?”

Joey shook his head. 

“I brought him out here. Some fresh air to help clear the mind, and just cold enough that he started shivering pretty quickly. And, well, I had the only blanket.” He twisted to better face Joey, whose eyes were wide with realization. “What did you dream about, that made you scared to touch me?” 

Ignoring the tears that started building up, Joey laughed quietly. “You’re too good,” he said in defeat.

“I know my family,” Henry corrected him. “And I know you need to get whatever you dreamt off your chest.”

It hurt, but Joey slowly explained the horrors he’d seen, from his own dark obsession, to the cruel straightjacket, to the blood and murder, to Henry’s descent into accepting the reality of what Joey’d done to him. He was crying by the end of it, his face buried in the crook of Henry’s neck even as he wanted to shy away from him. 

Finally, though, he reached the point where he’d jolted awake. “I was an absolute psychopath,” he whispered. “I hurt you, and I didn’t even care. I _liked_ it, even.” 

Henry hugged him tighter. “It’s over now. You’re awake, and we’re both fine. You’ve never hurt me like that, Joey, and I know you never will.” 

Joey laughed brokenly. “Then you have more faith in me than I do.”

“Enough of that. Here’s what we’re gonna do, all right?” Henry waited until Joey nodded before continuing, “We’re gonna head inside and go back to sleep. Tomorrow morning, we’ll be silly in the kitchen while we make heart-shaped pancakes for Valentine’s Day, and we’ll bring cookies to the studio, and then you and I will spend all day trying to find a way to surprise each other with our respective Valentine’s gifts. Any objections?”

After considering the plan, Joey quietly asked, “Can we watch a sappy movie when we get home?”

“Well, _of course_. In fact, we’ll each pick one, and whoever’s choice gets the toons to groan the most wins.”

• • • • •

In the morning, as promised, they made heart-shaped pancakes— dyed bright red— while halfway dancing around the kitchen, much to the toons’ delight. They used chocolate chips and slices of bacon to make silly faces, and when Joey zoned out with what Henry knew to be his _I’m-remembering-terrible-horrible-things_ face, he scooped up a dollop of extra batter and smeared it on the tip of his boyfriend’s nose. 

Things devolved from there, to absolutely no one’s surprise. 

But hey, if distracting Joey from his nightmare meant having a bit of an impromptu food fight— one that was more like pancake batter tag than anything— then Henry was more than okay with the extra clean up. 

The fact that they were a bit late to the studio didn’t matter, especially since they were armed with a peace offering of frosted cookies. 

Now, as far as Henry was concerned, was the really fun part of the day. He and Joey made it into a little tradition of theirs to try and actually surprise each other with a Valentine’s Day gift— not just with the presentation, but the gift itself as well. And Henry had just the thing. 

“Joey!” Henry shoved the door open, carefully holding his present behind his back. “I have something for you!” 

Perfect timing, it seemed. Joey was staring desolately down at his hands, seeing something his own mind had cooked up. Henry’s heart ached, knowing that Joey still doubted himself because of his nightmare, and might continue to do so for a while. Hopefully, Henry’d be able to help with that.

Giving him an incredulous look, Joey asked, “Since when do just _give_ me my present?” 

“Since now,” Henry said, smiling as he hopped up a bit to take a seat in a clear space on Joey’s desk. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

Without further ado, he plopped a little ceramic bowl full of ink down in front of his boyfriend. Joey stared at him for another second, eyebrows furrowed, before turning his attention to his surprise. 

It took every last ounce of Henry’s willpower not to burst out laughing at the perplexed expression on Joey’s face. Somehow even resisting the urge to smile, he gave Joey’s chair a little kick. “Give it a poke,” he instructed him. 

Hesitantly, as if expecting the ink to bite him, Joey reached out and jabbed the contents of the bowl. Immediately, a form took shape with a little _splat_ noise. It was recognizably Bendy, though closer to his plushie proportions. 

Joey’s chair shot backwards as he leapt to his feet, eyes wide and amazed. “Henry, how did— what is— that’s— _Henry!_ ” he cried, waving his arms around. 

Beaming, Henry nodded down at the little figure. “Keep going,” he said, a hint of his held-back laughter slipping into his voice. 

With another poke, the ink reshaped into Boris. 

“ _Henry,_ ” Joey breathed, his cheeks close to splitting from the force of his delight. A third nudge, and Alice appeared. With a wild whoop, Joey shoved away from his desk, flailing as he paced in a tight circle, incoherent. “Henry, you—” he stepped up between Henry’s legs and framed his face— “you beautiful, wonderful man. I can’t even…” Joey trailed off, shaking his head against the accumulating tears. 

Visibly trembling from his giddiness, Joey leaned forward and kissed him, though with their equally uncontrollably smiles, it was more like a gentle press of their faces against each other. 

“How’d you do it?” Joey whispered without pulling away, not that Henry minded. He was always comfortable sharing his personal space with his boyfriend, and with their foreheads pressed together and their noses aligned side-by-side, they would’ve been hard-pressed to be more innocently intimate. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Henry whispered back, “but I did have some help from Bendy.” 

Joey giggled— Henry’s smile spread even wider at the quiet sound— and shook his head. “Fine, fine, keep your secrets. It certainly makes up for the presentation.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Henry said, taking a deep breath, “in that case, give it one more poke.”

Leaning back, Joey tilted his head. “Who else would you have done?” 

 _Not who_ , Henry thought, biting his lip as Joey reached for the bowl. He stared straight ahead, twisting his fingers together as he listened to the telltale _splat_. 

Silence.

“Henry…” Joey’s quiet voice wobbled dangerously. 

Unable to stop himself, he turned his head the slightest bit. Joey had one hand pressed to his mouth, his tears finally trickling free, as he stared down at the little velvet box in his other hand. 

He waited until Joey finally looked up at him. “I was gonna wait,” Henry said, opening his arms for Joey to collapse into. “Spring it on you on some utterly unremarkable day, y’know? But this felt right.” 

“It’s not fair,” Joey whined. “Why are you so perfect?” 

“Joey, I’m hardly—”

“But you _are_. For me, you are. Because you put up with my crazy ideas, you helped me with the Ink Machine, you never thought the idea of living toons was strange, and my nightmare somehow didn’t scare you off, and— and now this. And that’s all—” Joey hiccuped— “that’s all only from the last year or so! I don’t deserve any of it, I don’t deserve _you_.” 

Henry rubbed Joey’s back. “That’s nonsense and you know it. Of course you deserve all this, you nincompoop. Why wouldn’t you deserve to be loved?”

Pushing deeper into Henry’s embrace, Joey mumbled something incomprehensible, though it didn’t sound negative. More than willing to indulge his ridiculous boyfriend, Henry folded himself around Joey, doing his absolute best to drown him in his love. 

In their comfortable silence, he heard the quiet pop of the little ring box being opened. Henry could clearly picture the ring in his mind, sturdy black metal with a line of bright blue running through the middle of it, all the way around. It was the same blue, not-so-coincidentally, as Henry’s eyes. 

“It’s beautiful,” Joey whispered. “It’s— it’s just like us.” 

Working blind, refusing to push Joey away even the slightest bit to see, Henry carefully pulled it free of the box. “I don’t mean to implicate myself as an eavesdropper, but do you remember what my mother told you all those years ago when my parents first got us together?” 

Joey nodded wordlessly, his face still buried in Henry’s neck. 

Henry slowly slipped the ring onto Joey’s finger. “She was right, y’know.” 

A little laugh burst out of Joey, quiet and content. “How am I supposed to top all this?” he asked. 

Ducking his head down closer to Joey’s, Henry said, “You don’t need to. Your happiness is my happiness, okay? Besides,” his smile turned cheeky, “this means I can keep my winning streak.” 

“That's fair, that— yeah, you win. You definitely deserve it for this.” Joey finally pulled back, just enough to stare into Henry’s eyes for a long moment. “I love you. No, I— I adore you. You are my everything.” 

Leaning closer, Henry gave him a quick smooch, breaking it just long enough for his eyes to crinkle in the corners and his smile to turn so obviously fond as he said, “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s hoping that finishing this finally broke my writer’s block. And just ignore time period issues, okay, I just wanted them to be deliriously happy. 
> 
> And no, this doesn’t mean that Super Psycho Love was just a dream, I only used it as a Very Bad Nightmare here because that Joey is terrible. 
> 
> This is especially for all my friends who continuously enable me with this ship. Hope you lot enjoy it! :)


End file.
